You Can Call Me Daddy
by S. C. Hardy
Summary: Ron and Hermione have been trying to have a baby, and in fifteen--no--thirteen minutes and six seconds, they will find out if their lives are going to change forever. PG-13 for some implications ;-)


You Can Call Me Daddy

"You know, if you had just decided to be a _good_ witch, we wouldn't have to wait this long."

Ron Weasley was laying on his king sized bed, his head hanging off the end as he watched his wife pace back and forth. His red hair fell to the ground as his eyes followed her upside down form, and he rolled his baby blues, giving his head a slight pang of pain. 

"I _couldn't_ do it the Wizarding way," Hermione complained in a whiny voice that was hardly used by the former Head Girl. "I just _couldn't_, why can't you understand that?" 

Her husband sighed and rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin up with his hands. The bushy-haired woman stopped walking and stared at him, her arms hugging herself tightly around the stomach. 

The couple, after three years of marriage, thought they were pregnant. Hermione had been throwing up like mad every morning, but, so had Ron, and for a while they believed it was just a virus going around their Muggle neighborhood. 

It wasn't until Ron's mother, Molly Weasley, came over with some dinner (which seemed more like the End of Year Feast at Hogwarts), and stared at Hermione with wide, teary eyes,

"Darling, you're _glowing_, when are you due?" she said, making Hermione drop the mashed potatoes to an ugly heap on the ground.

That had been a few hours ago, and now, Ron and Hermione were waiting for the Muggle version of a pregnancy test to show the results.  

"I understand _why_ you wanted to do it like this," Ron said with a visible look of smugness, "But I _knew_ you'd be bloody insane until you found the results."

"You did _not _know that," Hermione answered stubbornly, sitting down beside him with her arms still tightly around her. Her face was pale and she had avoided his eyes for the past fifteen—no—thirteen minutes and six seconds.

Twisting his tongue in his mouth, Ron sat up and quickly dangled his legs off the bed next to hers, though while she was able to sit without her toes brushing the ground, Ron sat awkwardly with his knees high up.

His blue eyes bore into the side of her head, knowing that this was probably her worse idiosyncrasy. With amusement, Ron watched her shoulders twitch slightly, and her brown eyes peeked at him quickly before she sighed and released herself from her own grip. 

Ron's arms were already waiting for Hermione as she fell into his embrace, scooting over so that she was pressed tightly against his side. With his right hand he combed some hair out of her face, and watched with an adoring smile as she pouted into his shoulder.

"I am so bloody nervous," she whimpered, grabbing onto his shirt with her small hands. 

The redhead was very tempted to tease her, as the statement created an _abundance_ of new material for him, but the crease between her eyebrows showed that right now wasn't a very good time for _that_ kind of humor. 

"I am too," he answered, putting a hand over hers. She let go of his shirt and let him take her hand as she tilted her head up at him. Hermione's nose was jabbing into his neck, right under his jaw, but Ron didn't mind.

"I mean, I know we've been trying--" She paused as the two blushed simultaneously, and Ron gave her shoulders a squeeze. "But…now that it's actually _possible_…"

"I know." 

He laid his chin on her head as she looked down at their intertwined hands, and he stared at the bathroom door of their bedroom. The answer to the rest of their lives was in there, with probably only a few seconds left before it was revealed. 

"Will you be…_mad_, if I'm not…"

"_No_, of course not!" Ron exclaimed, bending down to look straight at her. Hermione's eyes were shimmering with tears, but behind her fear Ron noticed a glimmer of hope. "If you're not pregnant, then, we're not meant to have a baby right now." 

Her shoulders hitched slightly as a few tears fell out of her eyes, and Ron released a pained moan.

"Her_mi_one," he said in a whiny voice, though she knew he was being serious. "If you're not, then we'll…" His face flushed as he leaned in and kissed her nose. "We'll just have to keep trying." 

Ron watched as she blushed too, but her frown didn't disappear as she shrugged her shoulders uncomfortably. 

"We've been trying for _two years_, Ron, what if we never---" 

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIING 

Hermione's mouth was still open as the alarm she had set in the bathroom went off. The two stiffened and she shot up, her hands wringing furiously, but her feet planted into the rug.

"I can't," she squeaked, covering her mouth because of the sound she had released. Her eyes were as wide as Quaffles, and Ron felt slightly bad for the huge ball of excitement that was swelling in his stomach. 

Hermione seemed scared out of all the enormous amount of wits she had, and he, well, _he_ was ec_static_.

"_I'll_ do it," he answered calmly, standing up and placing his hands on her shoulders. She nodded behind her hands, her eyes locked onto the bathroom door. With a slight smirk, he entered the room and spotted the test. 

It was sitting on a small white stand on the rim of the sink, looking like the thermometer Hermione had stuck in his mouth earlier that year. Ron picked it up and stared intently at it, realizing, but not physically showing it, that he had absolutely no idea how to decipher the test. 

A _normal_ witch would have just performed the pregnancy spell; if pink sparks flew from her wand, she was having a girl, blue sparks for a boy, and no sparks for not pregnant. 

_His_ wife, of course, had to go insane and want to be a Muggle for this _very_ important thing. She said to let her do this the Muggle way, this _one _time. Hermione had forgotten, of course, that _many_ things around their house were Muggle, _especially _because they lived in a Muggle neighborhood, so her family could visit them without problems. 

Ron had absolutely no tiffs with the Muggle contraptions around the house, after he learned how to use them of course, the redhead just didn't understand these sudden sparks of…_Muggle-ness_ Hermione had sometimes. Just the other day she insisted on _driving_ to Harry and Ginny's, rather than Apparating.

_Bloody insane_, he thought as he spotted a single blue line on the test. _That_ could mean something…

Still holding the test at eye level, Ron walked out in the bedroom, his face scrunched in concentration. He noticed over the rim of the test that Hermione had taken to pacing _on top_ of the bed, and his eyes left the blue line and looked strangely at his wife. 

She was biting her lip, and she stopped walking when she noticed he had noticed _her._ Her hands were balled up into tiny fists, and she looked as if she was anticipating the answer of life. 

Which, technically, she _was_. 

"What does the blue line mean?" Ron asked, looking back at the test as he realized he was not going to get an explanation for her new location. An immensely loud shriek filled his ears, and he dropped the test in time to catch a flying Hermione in his arms. 

She was screaming rather loudly and happily into his ear, making him realize that the test was positive, and that they were pregnant. With this revelation, Ron began to scream as well, hugging her around the waist and spinning around the room, knocking into various objects. A sea of brown curls covered his eyes so it wasn't _really_ his fault for the broken lamp they would find later. 

When the screaming died down, they were both drowned by a wave of hysterical giggling, and Ron had to lie down on the bed, Hermione landing sloppily on top of his chest. The giggles ceased, and now the two stared at each other, adoring smiles on both of their faces. 

"I can't bloody believe it," he whispered, reaching out and taking her face in his hands. Hermione blushed, and Ron could finally see the 'glowing' his mother had mentioned. "You're spectacular."

"It's not _all _my doing," she said slyly, tickling his chest. Her husband grinned and slunk his arms around her waist as he sat up, so she wouldn't go toppling off of the bed. Carefully, as though not to hurt her, Ron maneuvered Hermione to the head of the bed, and she let him control her movements, interested in the gentle way he was handling her. 

He propped some pillows behind her, looking very serious, and then, he squirmed and landed between her legs, his ear lying on her stomach. Hermione couldn't help but smile, and she ran a hand through his hair, wondering if her child will inherit his mop.

"Hello in there," she heard Ron whisper, making her eyes widen in surprise. "I need a word with you." 

  
A giggle escaped Hermione's lips, and Ron peered up, smiling. 

"Excuse me Miss," he said to her, his eyes twinkling. "This is a _private_ conversation."

Hermione's laughter rang throughout the room, but Ron's face remained unaffected as he turned back to her stomach.

"You'll realize quickly, that the company I keep is rather nosey and bossy," he said with his eyes avoiding his wife's. "She's a bit loud too, and stubborn, but it's what makes me love waking up beside her in the morning."

Hermione, who had been ready to smack Ron, was now listening intently to what he had to say to his child. 

"Your mum is a _very _intelligent person, just don't let her know that I said that. She's the smartest witch of her generation, and you're quite lucky to be inheriting her genes. You're going to be just as smart as her, and I bet a thousand galleons you're going to have red hair and freckles."

Ron looked up at his wife and grinned, and Hermione nodded excitedly, her cheeks flushed with adoration. 

"What's that?" he asked her stomach, leaning his ear on it. His eyes turned quizzical for a second, listening intently. 

"Oh, who am _I_?" Ron said to the stomach, "Well, I'm just Ron, but you can call me Daddy."

"Ooh, c'mere," Hermione whispered, tugging at his ears. Ron looked up with a confused look as he saw her eyes filled with tears. He crawled up and now he was lying gently on top of her, staring into her eyes for an answer.

"What's wrong, love?"

"You're going to be a _daddy_," she choked out, covering her face as a teary giggle escaped her lips. Ron grinned and pulled her hands away from her face so he could kiss her. 

Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck as tears of joy slid down her cheeks, and Ron moved his arms under her, to keep her as close to him as possible. 

"Mmmhmm," he mumbled, "And _you're_ going to be a _mommy_."

She giggled again, giving him a fiercer kiss and tugging at his ears.

"Yes, _I'm_ going to be a mommy."

And they lay there for hours, Ron lying blissfully on top of his radiant wife, just kissing and talking nonsense. They had absolutely no cares in the world, even if they knew that their lives were going to be bloody insane from this moment on.


End file.
